


Joy

by DalekLetoEndeavour



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Fluff and Smut, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I swear I didn't meant to write smut but it just somehow happend, Inspirational Speeches, M/M, Nature, Passion, Podfic Welcome, Poetic, Romance, Schoete, Weimar Germany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:02:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DalekLetoEndeavour/pseuds/DalekLetoEndeavour
Summary: A much too hot day and the adoration of a David like body
Relationships: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe & Friedrich Schiller, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe/Friedrich Schiller
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [billspilledquill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/billspilledquill/gifts).



> A/N  
> Encouraged by the marvellous @billspilledquill who reminded me of the cannon greatness of those two dorks

It has been awfully hot all day.  
Heat lingered in every corner of the usually chilly apartment.  
Wolfgang had just fled from a council meeting due too the unbearable heat resulted stench of his fellow ministers.  
Once home in his quarters, which he secretly shared with no other than Friedrich Schiller, he tossed his court wig into the next best corner.  
Pouring himself a glass of wine he went into the study where he expected Friedrich still to be peacefully asleep on the sofa.  
Yet no sign of him. Wolfgang sat down, traced a hand over the green velvet with a knowledge filled smile and took an appreciative long sip of his wine.  
A bit too fruity for his taste.  
Riesling from the south no doubt. Yet the taste had been altered.  
Sweeten with floral aroma of honeysuckle and orange blossom. Exotic reminders of his Italy adventure that almost melted away on his tongue like a daring kiss in a library.  
Another sip made his head slightly spin and this time the images of Tuscany was fading. After finishing his first class Friedrich crossed his mind more vividly than of all the pretty people he had met in Italy.  
Ah yes Friedrich was like, he paused tasting again, Riesling.   
A colourful speech, most alive eyes he had ever seen and the a hunger for knowledge he was desperate to fulfil. He was addictive to an inhuman point, his words were like honey cake.

Wolfgang laid back onto the sofa. Half dreaming half awake he thought of himself as a type of red wine.  
Pinot noir dry and light-bodied came into his mind and he accepted it for how long the moment lasted.

He doze off for a while yet woke from a dream which made his cheeks flush.  
Deciding it be best to go for a swim he made himself ready and left without honouring the letters on his desk a mere glance.

Friedrich had been dozing in the soft grass at the bank of the river Ilm for a while now.  
Chewing on a straw he had contemplated about going to swim for the better half of the day unable to decided whether to go in fully unclothes or to wear his shirt.  
In this almost mediterranean heat no-one would have dared to come out so he had seen himself daring on the save side.He undressed gingerly to his undergarments.  
Folded the remaining clothes neatly together before dipping his feet into the water.

It was pleasantly refreshing. Out of a silly mood he shed the remaining clothes as   
well. After all there wasn't anyone around and just in case he could reach for coverage at any time.

Friedrich jumped like a fresh born flying fish into the arms of the river and took it all in.  
The musky scent of a river at the peak of summer always captured his howl being. Consumed his mind with the promise of fresh bittersweet apples to be picked on the river bank, spliced with that same musky water.  
He dived to the ground searching for a pebble like it was some lost treasure.  
When the lack of oxygen made his thoughts drift away from green dales full of mature just to be plucked apples he rose to the surface Venus equal.

  
Wolfgang made his way down to the river.  
His hair was equal to the one of a hottentot he reckoned walking past a window front. Running a hand through his lustrous curls he chuckled softly. There was a soft breeze carrying the scent of fresh fruits.  
Wolfgang followed it aimlessly.   
Entrusted mother nature to be his guide.

Down into the high grass he spotted an old apple tree which already carried scarlet fruits in need of plundering.   
Hamlet like he inspected the apple, which barely fitted into his hands. The scent was intense and the flesh bonny sweet. Sinfully it melted away on his lips like orange sorbet.   
He plucked a few with a mischievous grin.

  
After a while of wandering he spotted a familiar turquoise coat violent against the emerald and wicket blue of the river bank.

In the very moment he knelt down to study the sketch book next to it, the nyphms gave up their dearest lover. Making Wolfgang tumble falling backwards, cheeks flushing to the colour of a just blossomed rose bud.

"Oh so you found my letter then?" Friedrich brushed back his hair before lending his friend a helping hand to get up.   
Water pearls run down his marvel body. As if Michelangelo was weeping upon David. Precious gems of a fleeting existence. Wolfgang was still in lost in adoration, too lost to form words, starved of a touch.   
As if he had never seen his lovers body before he studied him in awe.

Friedrich touched his flushed cheek with a corny smile. "I better cover myself if we want some conversations."   
Wolfgang wasn't able to form a proper word just stumbling after him to a tree.

Both men settled against an old oak tree. The tension between them lied heavier than the electricity of which the air was glimmering with.   
Their shoulders where the only point where they body's met yet their fingers were both anticipating the others claim.

Friedrich looked at him longingly. Marlowe’s immortal lines came into his lovers mind upon this, yes Friedrich could launch a thousand ships with his smile only surely, before getting up aimlessly.

Friedrich stretched out a hand wanting him back at his side.   
The wanderer returned with his rich and ripe scarlet treasures of an earlier conquer. An alive sparkle rose from the corners of his companions rosy lips travelling to his amber eyes when he spotted them. When settled down next to him again, Friedrich had been glowing like a marble statue at dawn.   
Knowing they were alone, Friedrich laid his head to rest in his friends lap appreciative of his heat and scent. Finding comfort the memories attached to it.  
Wolfgang got out his pocket knife parting the apple with precision before playfully feeding it to his eager lover.  
After a while they just comfortably rested each other holding a hand each on the spot where they suspected their heart must rest. In moments like this, they were sure of it, their heart would align to form a unison.

  
_"Bid me be silent, bid me not speak,_  
_Secrecy is a duty to me:_  
_I could reveal my heart complete,_  
_But Fate doesn’t wish it to be._  
_In due season, the sun’s bright path_  
_Drives the night away, the light must shine:_  
_The hard stone opens its breast at last_  
_And yields Earth water from hidden mines._  
_Every man seeks rest in a dear friend’s arms,_  
_Where the heart can express its inner pain:_  
_But my lips are sealed by secret charms,_  
_And none but a god can part them again._ "

  
"My my Herr Geheimrath looks like you need some help there." whispered Friedrich tracing a slender finger over Wolfgang’s cheekbones. His response was a smile yet struck with sudden concern about being exposed, dimmed it. So did he not recall the very moment the poets lips had sealed his with a sweet flavoured and heated kiss, but woke to being pushed down into the soft grass.

Precautions be dammed, history was not made for them, all they had together was the present.   
And he would have been a great fool, a traitor even to his standards as a writer to betray this piece of Acadia right here in his arms. Melting together in a colourful spectrum of light and delightful pain he finally let his guard down.

**Author's Note:**

> Goethe quotes his own poem 
> 
> Heiss mich nicht redden  
> Which is here translated into english


End file.
